Put on a leash
by TW0
Summary: Simon Riley is a rather bored cop in a cold city. Until he finds a half dead German shepherd that is close to dropping its young and thus he gains a trustworthy and loyal friend. AU, I'll warn right away, Soap is a goggie here :P


It's raining when he finds the kids. And the dog. They're a bunch of dumb kids, still green behind their ears, beating up this poor shaggy looking German shepherd, kicking at its swollen stomach and Simon Riley, patrolling officer slams on the break of his car. The vehicles tired screech on the wet street and he slides to a halt, jumping out of his seat before he has even come to a full stop.

"Drop down or I'll make y'all, you bloody wankers.", he shouts and draws his handgun, raising it to waist level, steadying it professionally with both hands.

The cowards of the group flinch and almost immediately drop to their knees on the floor or turn on their heels running out of sight in the steady rain that beats down on them all. Two idiots stay, however, and glare up at the police-man through wet hair and a baseball-cap. The slightly bulkier and taller one of the two weights a bat in his hands as well but Simon stares them down none-the-less.

He knows exactly that no one here had the guts to step up to a pissed off _and_ armed police officer in the middle of the night and true to his conviction the idjits step down, dragging at the arms of their still kneeling friends and bolting for it. Staying back the older man had to bite his tongue so that he wouldn't trail after them to note down where they lived or bark something like _"Yeah that's right, 'n don't ya _dare _come back!"_ after them. But it was also the pitiful whimper that held him back, coming from the dog that had slumped down to the wet pavement. In an instant Simon was crouching next to the animal, looking into fatigue dark brown eyes and reaching out a hand towards a figure that shrank away from him with a mix of a huff and a whine. Minding to put his gun back into the shoulder holster the officer spared a glance around to insure that the little shits had left for good before cooing softly at the dog. He continued to try and calm what he thought was a her down with low humming as he inched closer, every once in a while taking in the swelling of her belly.

Fucking bacterial minded sonsofbitches. No wait. Not a good thing to say in front of a pregnant dog that had just gotten the life beat out of her. Cursing under his breath Simon shrugged out of his Jacket to wrap it around the dog. He would call a vet but it was past mid-night on a Saturday and he didn't know any that were on night shift today. Still humming and calming down the Alsatian Simon tucked the worn leather jacket around the wet furry body and carefully picked her up from the concrete. Protesting the she-dog barked hoarsely and wriggled around but seemed in too much pain to keep her act up for long. It still took a while to get the animal settled on his front passenger seat. When the dog finally had settled into a heap of wet fur, legs and paws Simon was dripping wet and smelling like wet dog when he sank into the driver's seat. Inside he was still raging over dick-headed-too-young-to-be-prosecuted-animal-abusers when he took out his mobile and pressed the 4 for the speed dial to an old friend he knew would be up even at this night-time.

When the call was picked up the voice on the other end was still sounding pretty pissed.

"What d'ya want ya muppet?"

"Heya there old man. Mind if I come over in a bit, bringin' a poor soul in need for your gentle care." Jonathan Price gave a long suffering sigh. Yeah Simon liked the old bastard but he also liked annoying him sometimes. "Does it ever cross your mind that I might have something like a life? Just besides… you know _patching up half dead things you dump on my couch_?"

Simon chuckled and started his engine, startling the dog next to him to look up at him with pleading eyes. "You would be so lonely if I hadn't introduced you to Millers, Sandy and so on."

Again Price sighed. "What've you got?" he asked then, a tint of worry to his voice.

"Alsatian, female, pretty brown eyes, probably five years old…" he hesitated. "…maybe pregnant." Never a good idea to lie to the old man. He was a vet in both meanings of the word, having decided, that after decades of war he had enough of damaging people and people damaging him in return so he turned to patching up animals instead. Preferably dogs. But Simon knew that Jonathan had been a sucker for huge pleading eyes and the unfaltering loyalty of the four legged canines ever since Simon had dragged a half dead Irish wolfhound with his two hind-legs broken over his doorstep. That one had gotten the odd name of "Captain Miller" and a set space on front of Price's fire place.

"Well… You better get someone for the pups, I got no space for half a dozen of these fur-balls. Least of all the nerves.", grumbled Price and mumbled some more about the door being unlocked just like always before hanging up. Simon grinned at his friends antics and drove to the old house just outside of the shady part of downtown a little faster than allowed.

Thus it only took him twenty minutes to arrive there, unceremoniously stomp through the barking crowds of his saved, furred friends and drop onto the couch with a lapful of whimpering German shepherd, opposite of a rather tense looking old Brit. "Hello grumpy.", he greeted nonchalantly and patted the heads of five dogs that all poked their noses at him expectantly.

The old vet just huffed and motioned for him to lay the dog onto the couch table that had been used as an operating table so often that it had all the medical aid already stored under it. Complete with wet wipes, threat and needles and gauze.

"Quite a state she's in.", commented Price straight out skipping a _Hello_. The two men knew each other well enough not to need any sweet talking before coming to business. Both of them had always rather let deeds speak for them. "Ya. Found her shiverin' in the rain on the streets, buncha kids beatin' her up.", managed Riley behind his clenched teeth, as he peeled his jacket from the animal and laying her out on the table, trying not to hurt her. Price hummed behind him, his hands already in gloves and a syringe with what Simon guessed was an anesthetic. They both held onto the canine fast as Jonathan emptied the narcotic into the animals system which made the dog thrash in pain but the fits calmed down soon as she dozed off.

"From what I see she got at least one broken leg, bruises of course maybe a concussion and hopefully no internal bleeding. As for the little ones it doesn't look too peachy.", came the doctors analysis once he had given the stray a gentle but thorough checkup. "In fact I be damned if one of them makes it, sorry boy." Simon shook off the rather insistently pushing nose of Sandman, a Rottweiler with kind light brown eyes that loved attention and run his hand over the grey nuzzle of Millers before he pushed himself out of the couch to crouch next to Price over the still drugged shepherd dog. "Shame.", he murmured quietly and petted through the wiry fur on her flank.

The two men stood over the canine for a few minutes when Jonathan shrugged and brushed a scarred hand over his bearded face. "Wanna drink?", he asked gruffly, trying to hide how much his old heart beat for any animal he came across that needed any kind of help. "Scotch, thanks."

Sighing the officer sat down on the floor next to the low table and kept stroking his hand through the light brown fur. It really was a pity, the she-dog was in fact a beautiful dog. Apparently Price had caught his sadness over the animal when he offered a glass with a golden liquid in it.

"Ey don't go all feelings on my, right? Brought me some cases where I promised you no more than a few days and some of 'em are still here, hell some of 'em are even out there, living an apple pie life in some white fenced neighborhood chasing roof-rabbits." Price growled and dropped into his favourite armchair with Millers instantly curling at his feet. To underline his point the vet nodded towards the huge Wolfhound. "Like this one here. Could've sworn he would kick the bucket like a week after I had set his legs and now he's still going strong five years after."

With an amused expression Simon took a sip from his glass and looked up at his friend.

"You tell me not to go all _feelings_ on you, old man, an' now you spill like an' old cat-lady. I should hook you up with some lady from work or so, loneliness makes you crazy." His words made the old Captain sputter into his glass. "Don't want any women around. People are no good company.", rasped the man and furrowed his brows.

They spent the rest of the night watching over the injured dog and all the other lonely souls in the house, Simon trying to warm Jonathan up over the idea that Ellen, an older _female_ officer baked really nice pie but knowing that he was failing.

The next morning came too early for the both of them, Simon having made a nest on the couch woke to the alarming huffing right next to his ear and the wet press of a nose against his cheek, whilst Price had disappeared into his bedroom at some point in the earlier morning.

Disorientated the officer glared around for a while until he could hear the heaving and huffing that came from the operating-slash-coffee table to his left. He was awake in a heartbeat when he heard the pained wheezes and saw the upset state the whole pack was in, Sandman running in and out of the living room, the Golden Retriever pair Ruff and Tuff hiding in Price's chair and Miller being the one looking at Simon with big brown eyes and then strutting off to sit next to the head of the panting German shepherd that lay on the table in very obvious pain. "Ah shite. Price?"

Having only half registered that it was actually Sunday and he didn't have work he had already called his partner to cancel for him today when he was elbows deep in warm water, mobile tucked between his shoulder and ear and washing down the dog under the bellowed commands of Jonathan, that had actually gone into fucking labour.

Like suddenly the bitch – he felt bad for thinking that term about a gorgeous dog, really – had decided that she _had_ to drop the lot of babies she had apparently carried around for longer than Price or Simon had assumed _right now_ and of course _right there _on Jonathan's coffee table. Simon had decided he would never drop by for coffee, like ever. Not that he ever had but any chance he might would've were fading rather quickly as the canine continued to bleed all over the furniture.

"Hoo'sthis?", slurred a voice into his ear as he had just managed to get the dogs tail fixed onto the table with one hand. By that point he had already forgotten about the call again.

"Hey Ian. Sorry to wake you up but uhm I can't come to work today."

His partner didn't respond for a few minutes and Simon thought he might've just fallen asleep again but then the slurred voice picked up again. "You high or tryin' to woo a dude?" Simon's hand slipped and the dogs tail twitched freely over the table surface again. "Wat?"

"It's Sunday, Simon. Sun-day! We don't do _Sundays._" It took a while for the words to sink in, while Riley watched numbly how Price sat there with half his hand buried in the private parts of a stray dog that was about to cast its young all over his living room furniture.

"Oh." He could hear his friend shuffle around in his bed, could hear the covers rustling but his mind was once again focused in keeping the dog still and trying to get the pups out alive and in one piece. "Right sorry. I'll call you … tomorrow or whenever.", right as he was about to just drop his phone onto the floor, not caring if the call was actually ended the canine under him gave a terrible howl-shriek and collapsed, all her muscles tensing too much and Price cursed. "Stop talking to your damn Girlfriend and help me ya bloody loon!"

"Jeez Riley, never took you for one being into older-" but Simon didn't get the rest of the sentence, he needed his hands and arms to pull out the first of the puppies from Prices hands and the mobile dropped from where he had it pressed against his ear out of his sight and mind.

The little dog in his hands didn't breathe. It's fur was slimy and the naval chord had been tied off rather sloppily and it was gross and blood covered but the paws were so tiny and the nose was pink and the eyes closed but it didn't breathe. Carefully he set the thing aside, next to its mothers belly and Jon already handed over the next limp body.

The men exchanged a horrified look, after they had pulled four little puppies from the German shepherd's womb and none of them was alive. But determined they swallowed around the think lump in their throats and carried on leading the canine through childbirth the best they could.

And just after freeing the sixth lifeless pup they were close to collapsing, as well as the dog on the table. Simon didn't think he could feel or had ever felt worse when he looked over the six tiny dead bodies, his eyes stung and he felt dirty in another way than having an animal's blood stuck to his hands. Even Price, who was usually stoic and didn't even bat so much as an eye when he watched the news about beaten up kids or child soldiers looked terribly red-eyed, the pain obvious and raw on his battle hardened face.

"Fuck.", muttered Simon and smeared his forehead with dog blood when he ran his hand over his eyes. "Fuckfuckfuck." He looks up to his friend and sees the same desperation there he is feeling, pooling as a thick ball of dread in his stomach. But under their hands the female gave a last shudder and the seventh pup was freed.

It gave a small whimper and it was the most amazing sound.


End file.
